Chapter 3: Far Away from Anywhere

posted June 19, 2009

Zuko stared stupidly as Katara smiled at him, laughter still reflected in her eyes. Seek out the Wolf, the voice echoed through his memory, disconnected from this enchanting woman before him.

"A man who taught me how to find trails in the forest said I was good at it, but too enthusiastic – like a wolf cub." She shrugged, grinned sheepishly. "I got better at it, and found a few people's lost relatives, and then everyone was calling me 'the Wolf.'"

"Ah… oh," Zuko finally responded.

"Not who you expected, am I?" she asked.

"No…"

"I bet you expected 'the Wolf' to be some grizzled old mountain man, with a beard down to here." She gestured towards her knees.

"Something like that…"

"So, who are you trying to find?" She sounded eager, and Zuko tried to swallow his embarrassment. What is it about this girl? he wondered.

"I might give you a special discount rate for helping you," she continued, elbowing him gently.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and exhaled. "My uncle. I'm trying to find my uncle, and… "

Katara cut him off. "I knew it was an uncle!"

"Toph!" Katara called, pushing the door open. "Do you still have those census records you wangled out of the capitol?"

Zuko glanced around the room, his eyes adjusting to its dimness. Bags, tents, heavy boots, parkas, odd-looking equipment, and simple weapons lay around the room, heaped in piles or hung on the walls. Lamps sat unlit in sconces on the walls, the only light filtering through the tall storefront windows. He turned to study Katara, who stood with hands on hips in the center of the room, glaring behind the counter.

"Come on, Toph, I know you're back there!" she yelled.

"How much are they worth to you?" a voice finally responded from a shadowed doorway, girlish but rough.

Katara stepped forward, dragging Zuko with her by the sleeve. "Oh, stuff it, Toph. It's for a friend. Do you have them or not?"

A young woman shuffled into the room, her form indistinct in the dim light. She leaned on the doorframe, seeming to peer out at them; Zuko could feel her eyes on him, milky green and unfocused. He felt suddenly that he could see straight through him, see the core of his soul exposed, and it unsettled him.

"Yeah, I have them," the girl – Toph – finally replied, not shifting her eyes. "But if you find who you're looking for in them, you'd better outfit yourself here."

"Fine, fine." Katara waved her hand.

Toph huffed and stepped into the back room. "She's blind," Katara whispered. "Don't let her fool you." Zuko looked sideways at her; she smiled in return, and he settled himself. Friend, she'd said, and he felt warm again. They waited in comfortable silence, listening to rummaging in the back room.

"Zuko," Katara said suddenly. He turned to her, tilted his head slightly. "You can read, right?"

Before Zuko could reply, Toph stomped back into the room and slammed a heavy, leather-bound ledger onto the counter. "Here," she said. "Don't mind me." She hopped up onto a stool, crossed her ankles on the counter, and leaned back, seeming to fall asleep.

Katara reached for a lamp pushed to the side of the counter, adjusted its wick. She pulled a long match from a box on the counter, struck it, and lit the lamp. Light flared and Zuko winced at its sudden brightness, while Katara opened the ledger and began flipping through its pages. Zuko saw names, numbers, addresses, occupations, all neatly written in columns and rows on heavy paper. "You think he would have been here four years ago?" she asked.

"All I know is that he went west." He pulled the paper from his pocket and smoothed it on the counter in front of them. Katara glanced at it briefly, then looked up and met his eyes. Disconcerted, Zuko dropped his gaze and read aloud: "'East of the setting sun, a windy place, with white caps on the water, where wolves prowl, and dragons nest.'" He paused, eyes still downcast. "Uncle wrote that to me in a letter when I… about eight years ago."

Zuko looked up at Katara, who seemed lost in thought. "I figured out that 'east of the setting sun' means west, and eventually, I found out that 'Skaguak' means 'a windy place with white caps on the water.' That brought me here." Zuko looked back down at the paper, remembering their last conversation, the weariness in his uncle's eyes. This life we lead, he'd said. It's killing us, Zuko, even as we kill. "Some of his friends called uncle 'the Dragon,' so I think he planned to come here to 'nest' even then."

"Well, as you said, that got you here, so let's start with that." Katara looked down at the ledger, idly flipping its pages. "What did your uncle do?"

"Back home… he was… in the family business," Zuko explained awkwardly. "He gave that up when he left. I don't know what he would have done since."

Katara nodded and Zuko swallowed his relief at her easy acceptance. "And you said he's about 50 or 60… what's his name?"

"Iroh Souzin."

Toph sat bolt upright. "You're looking for Iroh?" she yelped, a surprised chorus with Katara.

Zuko stared at them for a long moment. "You know Uncle?" he finally asked.

Katara glanced at Toph while Toph continued to stare unnervingly at Zuko. Katara finally replied. "I know an Iroh, about fifty or sixty years old, who came here…" she seemed to think. "Five or ten years ago, now. It's not exactly a common name around here."

"It isn't back home, either."

"Well, he's been keeping a way-station along the trail to Deadhorse," Katara continued. "It's three or four days' walk from here. He makes great food – and his tea is amazing." Zuko snorted as Katara kept talking. "I like traveling that trail, just for the chance to visit with Iroh."

They stood in silence for a moment, Zuko staring at the ledger in front of him without seeing it, thinking of his garrulous, frivolous uncle living in the wilderness for so long. "Why would he be keeping a way-station?" he wondered aloud.

Toph seemed to look straight at him for a moment, her blank gaze unnerving. "There're only so many ways to escape your past," she stated bluntly.

Zuko flinched at her words, feeling Katara's curious gaze on him.

Toph grinned, the expression both understanding and savage. "This is as far as you can get from anywhere, Sunshine."

"So…" Zuko started. "What is a way-station?"

They reached the top of the stairs, hauling bags and boxes up with them. Katara had generously offered to carry some of the "gear" that she and Toph insisted was necessary for the journey to Iroh's way-station, though Zuko wondered what the point was if he was going to have to carry it on his back tomorrow, anyway.

"It's like a little inn along the trail," Katara replied, maneuvering a box into their hallway. "There's a few of them along the trails to Deadhorse and Kilkao, and farther out in the territories, especially towards the Kuyon. They're meant to help keep travelers from dying of exposure or starving because they set out unprepared."

Zuko fumbled with his keys, unlocked his door. "That was a problem?" he asked absently, pushing it open.

"Oh, you better believe it. We get a lot of people coming from up north to find their fortune or a new job or some long-lost relative who have no idea what the Southern Territories are like outside the towns." She paused. "Meaning no offense to yourself."

"None taken."

"During the gold rush, the government up North saw how many chichakos were getting themselves killed on the trail and declared that anyone headed down here had to be properly outfitted and bring a thousand pounds of supplies with them. That's where outfitters like Toph made a killing." Katara pushed an awkward package into his room and heaved it up onto the bed. "They also started offering incentives for locals to set up way-stations. The gold's long gone – not that there was that much of it to begin with – but the governor still makes sure there's way-stations along the main trails."

Zuko nodded absently as she talked, staring at the equipment piled on his bed. "Am I really going to need all this?" he asked. The predatory satisfaction on Toph's face as she rang up the gear had disturbed him. "You think you're going to walk to Iroh's way-station like that?" she'd asked rhetorically, gesturing at his traveling clothes. "You have a lot to learn about the Southern Territories, Sunshine."

"Hopefully not," Katara replied, breaking his recollection. "But if you need it and you don't have it…" She held up the heavy wool undergarments that Toph had insisted would save his "nethers" from frostbite.

"Right."

"We'll start out first thing tomorrow morning, so let's get all this packed now." Katara gestured to his trunk. "You can keep that in my room while you're gone, if you want. You won't have to pay for a room you're not using just to store your trunk."

"Thanks."

"I hate mules, so I always pack a lot lighter then they did during the gold rush. Everything needs to fit on our backs." As she talked, Katara started sorting through his new supplies. "That's why Toph is the best outfitter for this kind of trip – she specializes in the lighter-weight gear. This tent –" she held it up, a compact bundle – "is way better than the monstrosities they sell at Down South."

Zuko watched as Katara tucked packages and clothing into his bag, talking all the way. "It's only three or four days out to Iroh's way-station, so we don't need that much food. See how you can roll these together? It saves lots of space. And these – you'll need these if the pass hasn't cleared yet. Anyway, there's lots of streams along the trail, so we can fish for our suppers." She paused, surveying her work. Zuko was impressed despite himself: nearly all of the gear was neatly packed into the bag or strapped to its outside.

Katara stood. "I'll go get your share of the trail food – I've got plenty, so you just have to – oh! Suki!"

Zuko regarded her as she stopped in his doorway. She turned to look at him, her expression sheepish. "Suki, my brother's wife – I said we'd catch up before I left town again, but it looks like that's sooner than I expected."

Zuko started to speak, to tell her that it was okay, she didn't need to change her plans for him, but she cut him off again. "Suki loves company – I'm sure she won't mind an extra person at the table, especially since I'll make brown bread – she loves brown bread." Katara met his eyes and smiled. "Let me just go grab something, and then we can head over."

She left before he could reply, breezing out of the room. Zuko stared after her for a moment, then sat back on his bed. Outside, afternoon slowly faded to evening and he reflected on how he had met her only a day before. Katara, he thought, and the sound of her name in his memory made him feel warmer, the world around him somehow brighter. For the first time since he'd been cast out, sent away, estranged from everything he'd ever known, he felt that maybe he still had a future beyond the journey west.

Zuko sat carefully on a worn chair, listening to the sound of clinking dishes and low feminine laughter coming from the kitchen. Suki had shooed him back to the sitting room while she and Katara cleaned up, citing a need for "girl talk."

The room was small but comfortable, painted in dark greens with polished wood trim and an assortment of mismatched furniture. The curtains were drawn shut against the night, but the flickering lamplight warmed the room; electricity was still new to Skaguak and hadn't reached Suki's building yet. The mantel over the unlit fireplace held keepsakes and framed photos and Zuko, restless, stood to study them closer.

In one, Katara and a young man who shared her wide eyes and dark hair stood together, his arm slung affectionately over her shoulder. Her brother, Zuko thought, noting the boat they stood before. Another photo showed the brother and Suki in wedding finery, carefully posed before a lakeside pavilion. The print had been tinted with watercolors, giving the scene an ethereal beauty.

The final photograph showed Katara and her brother with a much older woman standing before them, regarding the camera somberly. Her stern features resembled theirs despite the difference in age. Zuko studied it, not daring to touch it; the card looked old and fragile behind a glass frame. He'd seen a similar photograph of his parents, when they'd looked young and carefree enough to pose for a photographer. Odd, he thought, noting that Katara and her brother looked hardly younger than in the recent picture of them together. Well, if electricity just reached Skaguak, maybe box cameras just did, too.

"So," Suki began, handing her a dish. Katara took it, drying it with the towel she held, and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Here we go. "How'd you meet?"

"It's not like that, Suki." Katara stared at the dish in her hand.

"What's that – a blush? Our little Katara has something to blush about?"

"Suki!" Katara glanced to the sitting room, relaxed when she saw Zuko standing by the mantle, looking at the photographs displayed there. "No, I have nothing to blush about," she whispered furiously.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." She paused, took another dish from Suki. "Yet."

Their eyes met and they both giggled conspiratorially. Katara felt Suki's affection wrapping around her, warming her like her brother's hugs. They quieted and continued, washing and drying, until Suki sighed.

"I don't know, Katara," she said quietly, so quietly that Katara had to strain to hear her. "He feels odd, somehow…"

Suki's words chilled Katara, though they didn't surprise her. "I know," she finally replied. "There's something… he hasn't talked about his past at all and I know there's something there… but he's not a threat." She stared at the plate in her hand, flames roaring in her memory, drowning the remembered screams. "Believe me, I'd know if he was."

"Take care of yourself, Katara." Suki embraced her, the sister Katara had never had, then they parted. "Hopefully, Sokka will be home when you get back."

"Thanks, Suki." Katara smiled. "Keep Skaguak safe while I'm gone."

Suki grinned, then turned to Zuko. She bowed formally, smiling as she straightened. "It was nice to meet you, Zuko."

Zuko bowed in return, a gracious dip to their hostess. "The pleasure was mine."

"Don't stay up too late – it's a long walk to Iroh's way-station."

"We won't," Katara called over her shoulder as she and Zuko began walking. She heard the door close, and the night swallowed them. They walked through the dark street, a comfortable silence still between them.

Katara finally broke that silence as they neared the Golden Peaks. "We need to get an early start. Do you need a wake-up call?" She looked sideways at Zuko, studied his profile in the dim light. The side of his face towards her was smooth, aristocratic, with a strong brow and firm chin.

"No."

Katara nodded. "Okay, I'll knock on your door when I'm ready, and we'll get going."

"I'll be ready."

True to her word, Katara knocked on his door early the next morning, just after sunrise. Zuko closed his stretch and opened the door.

"Here," Katara thrust a paper-wrapped package into his hand. "Eat this and let's get on our way. Is your bag all packed?" Zuko pointed to where it leaned against the wall. "Good." She grabbed his trunk and dragged it towards the door. "I already ate. It looks like a good day for traveling," she called over her shoulder.

"Good morning," Zuko said to the empty room. He unwrapped the package to find what looked like fried eggs sandwiched between thick brown bread. He bit into it.

"Is that everything?" Katara asked, returning. "You're all dressed? How do your boots feel?"

Zuko gestured while he finished chewing and swallowing. "Fine," he said.

"Well, if they feel too tight or if they're rubbing any where, make sure you adjust them. You'll probably get blisters today whatever you do, but if you pay attention to your feet they won't be too bad."

Katara breezed out of the room again before he could remind her that she'd told him the same thing yesterday. Zuko sat down by the window and continued eating his breakfast. Clattering and rustling noises floated to his room from the hall.

The noises stopped as he finished the sandwich, and Katara reappeared in his room. "Ready?" she asked. Zuko nodded and stood, and Katara heaved his bag up to the bed before he could reach for it. He shrugged his shoulders into it and let her fuss with the straps, pulling here and loosening her. "Is this too tight?" she asked, and he shook his head, watching her work. "Okay, you can stand up."

Zuko leaned forward and the bag followed; he bounced a little on his toes and felt it settle, the weight resting on his hips. Katara stepped up to fuss with the strap across his chest and he thought about how neatly her head would fit under his chin, how she would feel pressed up against him. Warmth flooded him and he pushed it away.

Katara stepped back and looked at him. "How's that feel?" she asked.

Zuko cleared his throat, didn't meet her eyes. "Fine."

Katara flashed a smile at him and turned back to the doorway. "I'll get mine, and then we're off!" Zuko watched her jog down the hall, then surveyed the room one last time. We're off, he thought.